


Meet me halfway

by Kitsu63



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Angst, Blood, M/M, Torture, horrified Johnsons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:27:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3182045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsu63/pseuds/Kitsu63
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Anders disappears without a warning the Johnsons leave New-Zealand to try and find him. They find a lot more. One of my idea of Anders and Mitchell encounter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet me halfway

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story I am publishing in English, unfortunately I haven't be able to find a beta-reader so I really don't know if there is a lot of mistake or not. If there is do not hesitate to tell me about it.
> 
> Also, I hope you'll love this story! Enjoy!

 

            Since they had rescued Anders from the Gods hunters things hadn’t been the same, mused Mike as he carefully watched his brother snuggling comfortably with Mitchell. That was what had mostly ran through his head for the last months.

When they had understood that Anders wasn’t answering his phone because he couldn’t, when they had found out that he hadn’t shown up at work for 5 days, when they had discovered the empty and trashed apartment Mike had immediately used Ulr, searching for his brother in every parts of New-Zealand.

But nothing. Not a trace, not even the ghost of a trace.

The terror he had felt at that moment couldn’t be compare to any other. Never had Mike felt such a fear, not even when Axl had thrown Anders right into a pile of broken pieces of wood, reaping his brother’s throat in the process.

No. This time it was the gut-wrenching fear of knowing his brother, his little brother, between the hands of crazy, sadistic degenerates who would do anything to exterminate those they saw as the “enemy”, even if it included torture.

And then, he had found it. A trace. A little something, nearly invisible, nearly untouchable and still, it was there. His brother was in Europe.

As soon as they had known the whole Johnsons family had made their move, booking plane tickets and train reservation, using cars and bus to follow the way the God of Hunt had seen and this was how they had ended up in Wales.

There they had come across an odd group, two women and one man who were also looking for someone but it wasn’t before they all found themselves in the Gods hunters’ lure that they understood how far from normality they all were.

Precisely, it was when one of the girl, Annie, decided to send all of their assailant away by a mere flick of the wrist and a powerful rush of wind. Between all of them they had easily made their way to the prisoners, but nothing could have prepare them to what they saw.

Bodies. Bodies everywhere and an awful stench that wouldn’t go away. It looked like they had killed as many people as they could and Mike shivered, hearing Axl cry of shock by his side, knowing that Ty and Olaf surely looked as sickened as he was. Their companions didn’t seem so shaken thought, and quickly they were walking over corpses, searching, calling for their lost friend. It was all it took for Mike to act, trying with what little hope he still had to find Anders.

They found them curled up together in a corner of a cell, his brother protectively surrounded by the taller frame of a dark-haired man, the two of them seemingly asleep, or unconscious. Like in a dream Mike approached them, his hand twitching, wanting to feel the reassuring pulse of life in Anders’ body.

“NO!!!”

George’s shout of alarm came nearly too late and it was mostly Ulr’s reflex that saved Mike. Suddenly, the dark-haired man wasn’t still anymore and he very nearly launched himself at the god, eyes pitch black and fangs instead of canines. Retreating hastily Mike bumped into Ty who seemed frozen in place.

“Mitchell!”

“Mitchell, stop! That’s us! It’s okay, you’re safe…he is safe” guessed George, his eyes leaving his friend to take a look at the blond man behind him.

The man/ _vampire?_ , seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure he could believe them.

“Please Mitchell, his family is here, they must want to see him don’t you think?”

At those words the black eyes changed their target to fall on them, studying them. And then a hand was on his arm and the eyes lost their frightening darkness, the fangs retracted and all they could see was a heavily tired man, a hurt man whose only support was Anders. The commotion must have woken up the god because nobody had saw him stir and now he was saving them, or it looked like it to the brothers, soothing his companion of misfortune, petting him in an hypnotic manner.

And in all of this, something kept bothering Mike.

Soon enough they were able to approach the two of them without being attacked and Ty and Olaf were the first to crouch down at their level for Anders and the man still had to move from their position. Ty went immediately to his brother but Olaf stayed behind, eying carefully George and Nina while they checked on their fallen friend. Quickly it was clear that none of the two men would be able to walk on their own to get out of here. Even though the vampire had threatened them it was plainly obvious he was in no shape to walk, and neither was Anders.

But the moment they pried them apart everything went to hell.

Anders started trashing so hard in their arms that even Axl couldn’t get a firm grip on him and he fought them and scratched and kicked and buckled under their weight as if they were some foe and the vampire answered to him, fangs coming back, muscles heaving under the pressure of his friends trying to stop him, snarling through a bloodied throat and suddenly that was all Mike could see. Because that was what was wrong with Anders too, a mouth full of blood that wasn’t making any sound.

“Stop!” he heard himself say. His blood cold from the realization and his whole attention focused on the God of Poetry. “Give him space guys, let him free.”

Axl and Ty shot him a confused look but did as he ordered. Immediately Anders reached for Mitchell, who did the same, all trace of the dangerous surnatural being gone as they grasp at each other in an embrace that seemed to say _are you okay?, Are you?_ and _I’m here,_ and _it’s okay_ altogether.

Coming back to the cars had been an absolute nightmare, one they had managed with great difficulties and that had taken them a long time. But the worst were still before them. Once safe, or as safe as they could be in the small flat they had rented, they still had to take care of the injuries. And boys! That was the real challenge! How Mike had wished for Michele to be here! She was a doctor, she would have known how to do this. But there were only him, his brothers and those strangers they barely knew.

In the end, it was thanks to Mitchell that they could help their brother.

When the vampire had finally understood they really were trying to help he had succeed were they had failed. Gathering Anders in his arms, his hand gently running circles on Anders’ biceps he had buried his nose in the God’s hairs, emitting little sounds now and then. From time to time Anders would lift his head and brush Mitchell’s nose with his own. And for a moment it really looked like they were talking to each other.

After a minute or two Ty, who was definitely the gentler of all of us, had been able to touch his brother and he started taking his torn and filthy clothes off, discovering little by little how much had been done to Anders. He found it very hard to contain himself and yet, he was thankful to be the one seeing it, not Mike or Axl. He wasn’t sure they could have kept their temper down.

And then, there had been the problem of Mitchell and George had step in, willing to take the responsibility of caring for him. Nina had tried but the vampire had snarled under her touch and withdrawn which had made Anders shoot her a filthy look before focusing on his companion. It took him more than half an hour to have Mitchell accepting someone near him again.

Nobody slept well that night, and nobody had since then. Mike was sure he had heard the three friends of his brothers’ companion fight but he kept it to himself, it was already hard for Ty and Axl to accept the existence of things like werewolves and ghost, they didn’t need more pressure.

They had soon left the seedy flat after that, traveling as quickly as the two wounded men were allowed to, wanting to put as much distance as they could between them and the horrendous place they still saw in their nightmares.

The…dependence Anders and Mitchell displayed of each other came close to become a problem when the Johnsons decided they wanted to go back to New-Zealand, thinking it would be better for their brother for there was no way to convince the man to go without his Irish friend.

Thankfully Annie promptly diffused the situation by proposing to go with them, arguing that they all need a change of air and pointing out that none of the two rescued men had made any improvement in all the time they had stay in England.

“Besides” had she said, looking at George and Nina, “it could be a fresh start for you too and, who knows, maybe there isn’t any vampire in New-Zealand.”

It had convinced the two werewolves.

But now, a month had passed and although the two ex-captives were doing better physically the mental progresses were far slower.

Thanks to Michele their wounds had been taken care of correctly but she had had a hard time with the vampire. Most of what he had suffered had healed in a matter of days but he had stayed very weak, he still was. George had reluctantly explain to them that the man needed to feed, that even though blood wasn’t necessary to his life he needed it to heal and get better which meant he would stay in this state of fragility as long as he didn’t drink from someone.

Mike knew that the werewolf had proposed his friend, he also knew that the tall man had refused right away. Which left them wondering what they were supposed to do and they had been afraid for Anders, fearing that the vampire would hurt him if he was to crave the damn blood too much but it hadn’t seemed the case. The two still wouldn’t let anybody separated them but Mitchell had never touched Anders in a way that could have hurt him.

And they yet had to speak. Or, more exactly, Anders had yet to speak, if he ever healed enough for this.

When they had reached that matter it had been Nina who had told them the truth, that Mitchell’s throat would never completely mend, that even liters of blood might not be enough. The vampire had been forced to drink holy water.

It was all it had taken to handicap him for life.

Not that Anders’ throat was better, but he had a chance to get well again. And, well, Anders had always talk, hell his power rely on him talking! He couldn’t stop talking! It…it was inconceivable! So everybody was waiting for him to speak again, even if Michele had told them that it would take months, at least, before he was well enough to try and that’s why, at first, nobody had saw the signs. Nobody had saw how his hand rested a little longer on Mitchell’s arm when he wanted to say _Stop! I’m here_ to tear the vampire away from his memories or how a long look, a whisper and a bump of his partner’s shoulder could mean _hold me_ or even how a change of rhythm in his breath and a movement of the head could say _It’s okay_ or _please_ or _stay here_.

Little by little they had created their own language, small touches and violent reactions giving away what they were feeling, and their friends and brothers had to watch in wonder and in fright at this world they were barely privy of. They felt useless, more useless that they ever thought they could be. Mitchell barely slept and when Anders had a nightmare it was him who held the trembling man, it was him who gave him comfort, it was him who guarded his nights. Because he didn’t trust any of them.

It hurt Mike to see such distrust in the eyes of someone, so what could the vampire’s friends feel?

What changed it all was another nightmare. Not one of Anders’, Mitchell’s nightmare.

For once the vampire had been sleeping, and Anders had wandered somewhere in the apartment when a bones shilling cry was heard. Mike had seen his brother turn white and rushed inside the bedroom but there was little someone small and fragile like Anders still was could do. The Irish man was trashing on the bed, shouting, howling, blood spilling from his mouth as he ripped his wounds open. His eyes were black like a moonless night and blind to them, his fangs free to hurt as he fought an invisible assailant, hissing when they tried to restrain him, putting all his strength in his effort to dislodge them from their position.

It stopped as suddenly as it started. When Mike though he would need to take Anders away and call for help Mitchell unexpectedly went still, lost hazel eyes reappeared and silent tears began to fall, tracing new patterns on blood-soaked cheeks. The God of Hunt left the room to give them space and call Michele but he knew the vampire really needed more help than what a normal doctor could give.

If only he knew what to do.

George had told them all that what vampire craved, and needed, in blood was the life it contained, that was what push them to drink until death comes to take their victims.

And then, it hit him.

There was one of them who had more life that any mortal would ever have! There was one of them who could give a part of himself to Anders’ partner and still live to tell about it!

There was Baldr, God of Youth. There was Olaf.

Fumbling with his phone he quickly dialed his grandfather’s number, hoping he wouldn’t be drugged out of his mind. It didn’t take him more than ten minutes to get the old man to come but it felt like thrice more. When he came back to the room he was greeted by the sight of his brother trying to convince the vampire to drink from him and Mike’s blood ran cold. More abruptly than he intended he shoved his brother of the bed, downright terrified that Mitchell wouldn’t be able to control himself, not after he had reopened some of his wounds. Anders made an angry noise but just when he would have tried to dislodge Mike from his place Michele came in.

Analyzing the situation quickly she asked Anders if he could make something hot - a tea or a coffee or anything really – for Mitchell before focusing on her task. Mike startled her when he reached the Irish man, explaining softly his theory to him, wanting him to understand how important it was that he let them try. He ignored the disapproving look of the Godess, Anders wouldn’t get better if Mitchell did not and Mitchell wouldn’t get better without blood. Something flickered in the hazels eyes then, something akin to hope, or fear, or both and the vampire gave a tiny, nearly imperceptible nod.

Not long after Anders was back and Olaf entered the apartment. Bragi’s host gave him a questioning look but the mildly stoned man missed it. Instead he went immediately to Mitchell’s side and shared an uneasy look with his oldest grandson. As much as they wanted it to work they had no way to be sure that the vampire would stop in time. His eyes locked with Mitchell’s and he sat on the bed.

“Mitchell, I am going to give you my arm. I want you to drink from it…”

A small shake of the head made him stop and he forced the man to look at him this time while his low voice continued.

“I want you to drink, you need it and I am giving it to you freely. Besides, Mike and Michele are here if anything should go wrong, okay?”

Nothing was said or done for a long time before the weakened vampire nodded. He approached the God fearfully, not really believing what they were giving him or that he wouldn’t be hurt, and then his fangs were there and he sunk them into the soft flesh of a forearm. Olaf let escaped an audible gasp at the draining sensation spreading inside him, a delicious burning rapidly turning into something painful and paralyzing and terrible. He felt it, his life escaping from him, greedily swallowed by the surnatural being he had chosen to help. And then there was nothing.

It took him a moment to realize that Mitchell had stopped drinking, his head was spinning, he felt his pulse thrumming at high speed and a hotness which was making him dizzy. The vampire was looking at him with dazed eyes and he could see Michele silently checking on him.

A low moan escaped Mitchell’s throat as he bend over the bed and promptly vomited, Anders was immediately by his side, panic clearly written on his face and Michele ushered them out of the room before returning to her patient.

Fifteen minutes later she was back.

“So?” asked Mike. “What happened?”

“My best guest is indigestion.”

“Indigestion?”

Olaf had a hard time understanding this one and Michele threw him an exasperate look before explaining.

“From what you told me he usually try not to drink blood and he certainly wasn’t given any during his imprisonment, which means he isn’t used to it anymore. And in the weakened state he is right now…Well, lets say a stomach can be upset for a lot less.”

“You mean…he needs blood, but he can’t stand it?”

“Mostly, yes. It’s not like he will have to drink more, it is already working wonder on him, just not as easily as you thought it would.”

Mike let his hand wandered in his hairs while he sat, looking haggard and decades of thought going through his head. He had never imagined that the vampire would get sick, the idea never crossing his mind. He needed to call George. To tell him, and Annie and Nina about what had happened.

It didn’t exactly go well.

By doing what he did he had override his rights, Anders was his responsibility but Mitchell wasn’t. And he should have explain his theory to George, he should have let them know what he was going to do and that was exactly what had scream the man.

Anders had merely raised his eyes to the sky, annoyed to no end by the angry werewolf. Cocooned more strongly in Mitchell’s arm than he had been in the last months he wasn’t exactly thrilled to see the vampire winced at every flaws George could find. Now more than ever he regretted the loss of his voice, he would have given everything to make the guy shut his trap.

It had surprised Mike, it was the first time he felt like he had caught a glimpse of the old Anders, of his brother before he was kidnapped. But what had surprised him even more had been the grateful, yet tinge with shame, look that Mitchell had sent him. And the trust he had progressively given them, allowing them to care for their brother again. That they had been ready to help him, even if it endangered them…It had meant something. It had touched the very core of the vampire’s soul.

After that episode things had started to fall back into place. Little by little Anders had open up, he and Mitchell had let them entered their world and now they knew when a kiss was just a kiss or when it was a plea for reassurance, when a touch was a way to say _hey sweetheart, wanna fuck?_ Or _where are you going?_ Or _be right back, don’t worry_ and they knew what to do or, maybe even more important, what not to do.

The resumption of Anders’ sex life had been what they had the least expected. They shouldn’t have, really, and yet they had succeeded to forget this part of their brother. That until Ty, worrying and wondering about what Bragi’s host and his Irish companion were up to, had walked right on them. He had scared the poor Mitchell half to death and most certainly traumatized himself for life.

As mutilated bodies and broken souls began to heal a time finally came where they weren’t needed anymore. Mike with his mother hen ways and his control problems, George and his own difficulties with control management, Axl and Annie with their overfussing, Ty and even Nina and Olaf! They all had had to let go. To stop relay each others in Bragi’s living-room by fear of a relapse, of a nightmare or a flash-back.

It had been one of the hardest things Mike ever had to do. It still was for he had yet to stop thinking of going back there, of camping in front of the door if he had to, just to make sure that everything was okay. He wouldn’t know until much much later that while George had had the same idea but was stopped by his girlfriend, Annie had had little qualms about transporting herself into the apartment during several nights before finally getting thrown out.

Even now, even months after Mitchell and Anders’ physical recovery was mostly complete, he still looked at them like they were some fragile treasure that would break or disappear if he had the bad luck to be distracted for a mere second. It was what helped him to see how much things had changed since that fateful day when they had saved them from the God hunters. How much they had changed, how much the mess their family was had been transformed into caring siblings again. He could see how it had broken them a little too. How Axl sometimes watched the world with eyes full of distrust and how even the hard Nina seemed to falter a little when she spoke with Mitchell. How Olaf stopped drugs all at once as if it was what had stopped him to know about Anders’ predicament in time. Which could be the case, if he wanted to be honest.

Mike didn’t know a lot about the way George and Mitchell interacted with each others before they met, it was Annie who told him bits and pieces from time to time, when the two of them needed to distract themselves from what horrendous pictures and memories their brains kept rememoring. She told him about their trust and their hardships, the dependence they had developed toward each other. How George had seen Mitchell has a rock and an experienced sort of “saint”, sometimes forgetting that the vampire had been a monster long before him and had done a lot of terrible things. How Mitchell might have seen his salvation in this lost baby werewolf, how he had try so very hard to be what his friend needed and how he had understood Annie better than he had ever told her.

All of this had changed too. Their relationship, their interaction, what was left unsaid and what was not…Nothing was the same. Not for George and Annie, not for Nina, not for any of them.

There would never be unsaid again.

Changes weren’t always for the best, as they weren’t always for the worst either. And they would make sure that they wouldn’t be for the worst this time, Mike vowed.

They would make it worked. Anders deserved it. Mitchell deserved it.

Things had changed, but with time everything would be better again.

 


End file.
